


difficult to recall

by mr_dr_felicia



Category: Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi | Spirited Away
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 17:36:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7448032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_dr_felicia/pseuds/mr_dr_felicia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chihiro remembers</p>
            </blockquote>





	difficult to recall

 “Nothing is ever really lost to us as long as we remember it.”   
―  **L.M. Montgomery**

Chihiro liked rain.

She liked the way it formed little grey pools during harsh spring showers and _plip-plopped_ on little pink flower petals in the summer. She liked the booming sound the window shutters gave when wind rushed into the side of her bedroom and pelted bullets of rain into the glass windowpanes. Even the sound of it drumming a tune on the tin roof made her smile.   

She’s always liked rain, just not very much today.

It’d been sunny when she’d woken up for school, the sky a light blue and streaked with white clouds. But as the hours had passed and the last class of the day ended, the clouds had meshed together to form a dark grey mass heavy with rain. Most of the other students had gotten home with either an umbrella handy or they braved the light drizzle that had obviously been a prelude to the current downpour.

Chihiro groaned and tightened her ponytail. She had a ten minute walk to the station, and on most days it would’ve been fine if she got home soaked, but she’d brought over her mom’s laptop for a presentation and to get it wet would be suicide. She’d tried to fit it into her school bag, and when it proved to stick out no matter what she did, she realized she’d opted to leave her blazer at home and wouldn’t even have anything to cover it up from water damage. Waiting seemed to be the only answer, so she found a nice, relatively warm corner beside the shoe cubbyholes and waited.

She spent the time reviewing her chemistry notes and messed around with the white school shoes left in the cubbyholes. She read all the paper names written on the cubbyholes and looked at the unique stains each pair had, ranging from mud all the way to splatters of paint. Her own pair was dusted with a fine layer of brownish dirt from track and field practice. She tried whistling, and winced when all she could do was look silly. She opened the Japanese mythology book she borrowed from the library and ran a finger over the pictures. She did and redid her ponytail.

She waited, and the rain fell.

It was nearing 6 p.m. now and Chrihiro could hear the doors upstairs closing and opening as the homeroom teachers did their last sweep for any lingering students. Chihiro had stayed late at school before, and she knew the teachers were let out around six. She didn’t want to impose on them, but her history teacher Ms. Genji had a car waiting in the school’s tiny parking lot. Asking for a ride to the station should be easy enough. Footsteps and voices were nearing and Chihiro gathered her things and stood near the door. She practiced how she would ask Ms. Genji, and just as the first teacher came down, lighting flashed outside and thunder boomed.

Chihiro had never been afraid of thunder or lightning, so when she jumped nearly a foot into the air, it was mostly from the shock of hearing it so suddenly. Her hair stood on end and she bit off a curse as she patted it down and smoothed the wrinkles from her skirt. The teacher who came down first was Mr. Kogara, her math and science teacher. He was her oldest teacher, and when he saw her, his wide forehead wrinkled and his eyes squinted behind flashing glasses. He was a kind man, and reminded Chihiro of a radish for some reason, with his sparse white moustache and the widely set eyes.         

It was absolutely silent after the crack of thunder, and Chihiro felt a chill in her spine that prevented her from speaking—which was weird, since she had grown out of her fear of speaking to others since moving here.   

Mr. Kogara regarded her for a minute before finally speaking. “Ogino-san?”

Chihiro nodded mutely, feeling the slight tug on the hem of her pleated skirt. The wind had changed.

“I didn’t know there was track and field practice today. The field’s flooded.”

Chihiro opened her mouth to try and respond, but when no sound came, she closed it and pursed her lips. She looked down at her shoes helplessly, the yellow sneakers almost an exact copy of the pair she wore when she was ten. That’d been nine years ago.

“Onee-san.”

The voice is enough to make her jump (this time actually out of fear) and she spun around to look for its source. There was a little boy holding an umbrella behind her. Suddenly her voice was back and it’s impossible to hold in her surprised yelp. “What the—who are—”

“Ah, I see you called someone to pick you up.” Mr. Kogara looked down at the boy and nodded. “You shouldn’t make your nee-san wait so long, young man.”

“Sorry, sir.” The boy walked under the roof and took a hold of Chihiro’s wrist. His fingers were cold, and strangely familiar. Chihiro looked down again. “Let’s go, Onee-san.”

Mr. Kogara adjusted his glasses. “Take care, Ogino-san. Make sure you’re ready for tomorrow’s test.”

“Er—Y-Yes, sensei.” Chihiro was barely able to answer. Something in her was shifting, and she wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.

The boy tugged her out of the door and pressed the umbrella’s handle into her palm. Chihiro was too busy looking down at her shoes and chewing on her lip to notice her hand close around the umbrella and her feet start moving. Soon enough she was walking down the path that lead to the train station, the little boy walking beside her. She didn’t know the kid, but being around him didn’t feel as weird as it should’ve felt. They kept walking.

Chihiro felt the laptop in her bag bounce against her hip and she adjusted the strap, her right shoulder was getting sore. It wasn’t only her mom’s laptop weighting the bag down, but she had also stuffed all the papers and university brochures in there too. The thought of having to review all of them was maddening. Chihiro was working hard to get good grades, but she still had no idea what she was gonna do after highschool. She sighed.    

“Is something the matter?” The boy looked up at her.

He spoke so formally Chihiro had to glance down to make sure she really was talking to a child. She was, and she shook her head. “I’m fine.”

The boy looked back down and Chihiro took a moment to glance at him again. He was skinny and pale, the top of his head just reaching the middle of her upper arm. His clothes were especially strange, the blue and white kimono just like the one Chihiro had seen worn by onsen workers, just rougher-looking, the fabric’s weave dotted with inconsistencies. The slippers he wore were worn and the umbrella he’d brought her looked like an antique. Its handle was carved bamboo painted an inky black and the paper stretched over the canopy was a brilliant red. It looked even older than the Chinese oil-and-paper umbrella Chihiro’s grandmother treasured. The boy and umbrella made a strange pair. Both looked like an illustration in a kid’s fairytale book. 

A turn-off came up halfway and Chihiro turned left and started down another path, this one just flattened yellowish dirt filled with loose pebbles and puddles. Small stalls with walls of hammered tin and wooden frames sat squeezed together on both sides of the path. Chihiro grinned. It took much longer, but walking past here always made her smile.

She noticed the boy staring at one of the empty shops. “Most of the places are closed right now ‘cause of the rain, but there’s this one shop…”

Chihiro squinted past the misty white of the rain and searched the metal rooftops for any signs of smoke. She was hoping they were open, and then she saw it, a thin streak of dark grey.

“Yes! C’mon, we gotta hurry, they’ll be closing soon.” By that time Chihiro’s socks were already drenched with puddle water (the boy’s feet were impossibly dry with just the slippers) so running into a few wouldn’t have mattered. Chihiro launched into a sprint that would’ve made her coach proud, mud splattering onto her calves after each step. All she could hear for the first few seconds were her own footsteps on the mushy ground, and she was about ready to stop and call the kid over, before there was a rush of impossibly cold wind and suddenly he was running right behind her. Chihiro would’ve stopped, but the shop was so close she could smell the sesame oil and grilled squid.

She took the last few steps and stopped right in front of the little stall, mud streaming behind her. The young woman manning the grill looked surprised, but a bored expression soon fell over her features again. Chihiro liked the shop the most, and knew the woman’s name to be Lin. The woman fanned at the coals. “Ah, Chi-chan. All we got is candy and grilled squid today.”

“That’s fine.” Chihiro said, slipping the umbrella’s handle in between her shoulder and neck to dig into her satchel. “I only ever buy konpeito here anyways.”  

She finished tugging out a coin purse and looked down at the boy. He was miraculously dry, and looked up at her with a blank expression. His eyes were a worrying shade between green and blue. Chihiro could compare it to the color of an astoundingly calm surface of a lake whenever it reflected a clear sky. But she wasn’t _supposed_ to be comparing it to anything, so she shook her head and continued. “Pick out whatever you like. I’ll treat you.”

He took a minute to look at all the pre-packaged packs of gum and taffy, twirled a few lollipops between his fingers, before finally choosing. “I’d like the squid.”

“ _Eh?!”_ Lin spoke before Chihiro could, her face twisting into a scowl. “You spend all that time picking at the candy and get squid? What a brat!”

The boy glowered, but didn’t say anything. Chihiro laughed awkwardly and dug out a few coins. “So…um, two boxes of konpeito and a grilled squid.”

“Got it.” The woman was still scowling, but she retreated back into the shop to get the candy.

Chihiro turned to the kid. “That’s just how Lin acts around everyone. She’s pretty nice once you get to know her.”

“All those stations and she just _had_ to choose this one.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” The boy turned to stare at the way they’d came, fully dismissing their conversation. Chihiro looked too, and saw that her footsteps had made divots in the mud deep enough for them to be filled with rain water. They would be huge puddles come morning.

Lin came back with two paper boxes tied with cheap ribbon and placed them into Chihiro’s hands. The konpeito rattled as she passed Lin the money and watched the older woman practically toss the skewered squid at the boy. He caught it just fine though, and glowered at Lin until they’d walked away enough for the mist to cover up the shop again.

The shops got less and less close together the farther they walked until only pine and grass lined the path, the puddles there much fewer. Chihiro untied the ribbon on one of the konpeito boxes and shovelled the candies into her mouth, taking time to let the one handful fully dissolve in her mouth before putting in another. Everyone found her particular love for konpeito strange, since Chihiro had never been a fan of sweets. And her parents always pointed out how she never liked them before. But Chihiro had hated a lot of things before, like talking to strangers or being alone.

_It’s a part of growing up_. She’d always answer, and grin.

“Onee-san?”

Chihiro starts, the remaining konpeito in the box rattling. “What is it? And Nee-san is fine.”

“How old are you?”

“Wha—that’s a strange question,” _especially since this is the first time you’ve started a conversation with me_. She added in her head.

“Is it?” The boy finished his food and twirled the bamboo skewer between his fingers.

Chihiro sighed. What would the kid do if he knew her age anyway? It was probably just a harmless question. “I’ll be turning nineteen this summer.”       

The boy slowed until Chihiro had to take a few steps back just to keep the umbrella over him. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s getting dark,” he was looking down, so Chihiro couldn’t see his face as he spoke. “We should hurry up and catch the train before it leaves.”

“O-Oh. Yeah, you’re right.”

Chihiro tossed the last pieces of candy into her mouth and folded the box flat so she could stick it into her bag. She wanted to know what was bothering the kid, but he wasn’t speaking to her and only walked faster.

They reached the train station just as the train pulled up. Luckily the station had a little roof over the waiting area, and Chihiro was glad to step on something fully solid. There was still quite a few people piling into the train, and Chihiro took the few minutes to give back the boy’s umbrella. “Thanks.”

“It was no trouble.” The boy bowed and took a step back. “Goodbye, Nee-san.”

“Oh, yeah.” Chihiro held out the other box of konpeito. “I started liking this when I was about your age, so I think you’ll like it too.”

The boy looked at her hand and the box of candy for a moment, and Chihiro suddenly saw something pass over his eyes, like a ripple over a pond’s surface. It was gone just as fast as it came, though, and in the next moment the kid was taking the box and bowing again. “I won’t be able to come back in a while.”

“Huh?” Chihiro turned around and saw the train doors closing. She glanced back at the boy and saw that he was still staring at her, the umbrella dripping beside him. The rain beat down harder than before.

She ran to the door just before it closed, and barely slipped past with only one thing on her mind. _I didn’t even know his name._

_Don’t be silly._ Another part of her brain cut in, words ringing loud in her ears as she leaned against the doors _. I got him his name back; I should very well know it._

_That’s impossible._

_Remembering is hard._

_Remembering what?_

_Haku. His name was Haku_. And all of a sudden memories came rushing back just as the train started pulling away from the station. Chihiro spun around to face the glass windows and saw the exact same thing as she did before, the boy, Haku, standing there with the umbrella beside him. He was still staring at her with his worryingly coloured eyes, their calm surfaces rippling when they meet hers.

“Haku. I’m sorry for not remembering earlier.”

He somehow heard her through the glass. He smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

 

Chihiro doesn’t forget then, and waits, which is much harder now that she knows she’s waiting for something. She doesn’t know how long she’ll have to wait, since the last time Haku made her a promise, it took him almost a decade to accomplish. But she’s always busy nowadays, and the hours after school she spends with Lin, who’s always remembered.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Chihiro asked the woman one afternoon, swinging her legs and looking down at her shoes. It was nearing graduation now.

“’Bout what?”

“About _everything_ ,” Chihiro frowned. “I came here almost every day.”

Lin didn’t look up from the pastel cardboard pieces she was folding up into tiny boxes. “Remember when Yubaba set you free?”

Chihiro paused to think. Some bits and pieces of her memory still needed a bit of tweaking, but the one Lin was asking about was one of the first things to come back. She nodded, “yeah.”

“I’d bet you were wondering why Haku asked you not to look back while you were passing through that tunnel.”

“Kinda.”

The woman put together another box and stacked it on top of many others. “That tunnel is one of the only gateways between the Spirit and Human world. And the only way a human can get through it without evaporating into mist is if they lose all their memories of that place. If they were truly meant to remember, then they’ve gotta remember it on their own.” Lin took a moment to point at Chihiro. “Like you.”

“Well—”

Before Chihiro could reply, the small alarm clock Lin kept on the counter beside the candy apples rang, the hands indicating it was seven in the evening. The last box was stacked a bit clumsier than usual and Lin hurriedly pulled the few remaining food into the cooler she kept right under her stall and untied her apron. Every other shop owner thought Lin was a neighbour of Chihiro’s, and waved goodbye at the pair as they walked down the dirt path.

Lin was counting her earnings, summing up in her head how much they would be converted to the heavy gold coins spirits used. Chihiro watched the woman click her tongue before rolling the money into a paper log and slipping it into a pouch secured with a string around her neck. The pouch disappeared under the folds of Lin’s clothes, and they continued walking. They stopped when the trees that surrounded them side-by-side were thick enough to block out the moonlight.

“This is me,” Lin mused, stepping over the bent chain-link fence that used to bar people from the tree line. Chihiro had been through there before, years and years ago when she was barely twelve and brave enough to sneak out with her friends in the dead of night. No one caught them, and for the rest of the summer they spent the nights telling ghost stories by an old pile of squarish rocks.

Chihiro walked the rest of the way to the station thinking of those rocks, and how funny Lin would’ve looked the first time the woman saw her shrine vandalized with a couple of little girls’ names scribbled all over the stones.

 

Summer rolled along and graduation went past in a blur, with Lin giving Chihiro a freshwater pearl and rolling her eyes. “You probably know who it’s from.” After the pearl was another gift, this one coming from the woman herself. It was a tiny piece of bamboo, its shape a perfect cylinder with a string of nuts and seeds dangling from red thread looped through a hole at its base. The woman grinned and winked when Chihiro looked up at her questioningly. “It’s like what you humans call ‘texting’ for spirits. Just roll your note up into the bamboo and leave it on your windowsill.”

Chihiro’s eyes widened and she laughed happily.

She wrote out her first note the very next day, keeping her handwriting as small as possible. She left the bamboo cylinder outside her window and didn’t sleep until a weasel came crawling up the sill and grabbed the cylinder with its teeth. When she woke up the next morning, a reply was inside.

Sometimes the replies would come from the Spirit world, and Chihiro imagined Lin writing up a note wherever she was staying over there, the rich smells of gold and anise sticking to the paper when she was done. Other times the paper smelled of the forest and had murky mud stains on the corners. Chihiro grinned every time she she’d see the stains, because the image of Lin crouched beside her old shrine always came to mind.

It was when Chihiro was packing for her trip to Tokyo when a weasel bumped its black nose against her window.

The weasel went home with a piece of tofu in its mouth and Chihiro was left with a note to open. This time it wasn’t mud that rubbed off the edges of the paper, but water, the chill of wet paper on Chihiro’s fingers making her shiver. Lin liked to ramble in her notes, but this one had only one line, and it made moving away for college much more enjoyable.

_The dolt said he enrolled into the same university as you._

Exciting enough for Chihiro to arrive on campus a week earlier than expected, it seemed. And when a week later, someone tugs on the hem of her shirt and says her name, she doesn’t have to see who it is before turning around and pulling them close.

He was wearing different clothes this time, and appropriately aged up to look like any other uni student. Chihiro breathed a laugh into his shirt—a formal dress shirt that stood out too much—and looked up. “That was a lot quicker than last time.”

The same shade of worrying blue-green eyes looked down at her, and Haku smiled.    


End file.
